


Joy Ride: interlude (1/2)

by theAsh0



Series: Joyride [3]
Category: Black Panther (2018), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Humor, BAMF Shuri (Marvel), Borderline Personality Disorder, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Recovering, F/M, Fix-It, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-07
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-01 23:54:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20551193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theAsh0/pseuds/theAsh0
Summary: the young and brilliant Princess Shuri takes on a project she might come to rue.





	1. mr barnes

The thing that sets it off is, as always, a  _ puzzle _ . 

She just can’t stop herself, Shuri knows. It’s always been a problem. Something to do with her brian. Always buzzing, asking, churning. Shuri knows she’s been incredibly lucky to have been born in an environment that nurtured that inquisitive nature. That had the means and the love to allow it to grow. Still, it’s never really  _ felt _ like a blessing when she was up till two at night as a preteen, with a pounding head, but mind turning and churning and begging for more, more more.. 

All her doctorates and masters in engineering are pretty much just the result of that brain catching on to some puzzle piece, some sliver of knowledge and refusing to quit until the entire picture was complete. When modern science failed her, and a puzzle piece remained missing, despite her restless nights of research,  _ that  _ is when Shuri’s  _ inventions _ happened. Her addendums and publications in scientific papers—all in fake names, of course.

So, of course it’s a puzzle that does it.

The funny thing is, she doesn’t  _ see _ it at first. The real puzzle. The one that is eating her alive now. Yet at first she overlooks it, dismisses it; is blind to it. Like most people are, apparently. It’s not that strange, really, that she misses it. Psycholog isn’t her main interest, and the puzzle is hidden in plain sight in such an inconspicuous and unassuming way; right next to at least two more puzzles so much more up her alley. It would be fair to say it’s a miracle she notices at all. She doesn’t, really; not without someone to catch her attention to it. And even that takes another, more unsung genius whose interest do bother psychology: her brother. 

She’s already working on her puzzle; on the epicenter of it, and doesn’t even know it. She is complaining about him, and doesn't even see. Because, as long as you don’t look too closely, he _ is _ boring. “Courteous, sure, but  _ boring!. _ ” Shuri sighs. “I’d have expected a little more from a living legend. Like, I don’t know? Personality. A sense of humor.  _ Any _ general input beyond basic curteries and that polite smile when I crack a joke.”

And T’Challa gives that forlorn smile as he puts down his coffee on the low table, looks out the grand open vestibules, and contemplates. “Considering everything it’s a miracle...” and then T’Challa, genius in his own right he may be, does the most foolish: he clicks his tongue at himself and looks away. “At any rate, I wanted to talk about the best way to start sharing Wakanda’s breakthroughs in medical science with our direct neighbours...”

“Did you just change the subject at me?” Shuri blinks. T’Challa hasn’t tried anything so endearing and  _ stupid _ since she was eight. “You just changed the subject at me!”

The king actually winces. T’Challa is off his game today. “Now why would I do that? You’re on the trigger word project too, you’ll get the files anyway. I just need your attention on the diplomatic mess that is our emerging country’s identity, harboring a group of fugitives from the law, and how to play this without mayhem and chaos.

Shuri glowers at him for a moment, and then lets him; change the subject. Like that would do any good now. Her attention is piqued, and her mind attuned. She will look now.

When Shuri does get the Winter Soldier files, they are gruesome and incredibly  _ voluminous _ . In a spurt of genius that is her brother, none of the information has been pruned. T’Challa know by now that it’s impossible to keep things from her anyway, to hide information from her. Perhaps he hopes to dazzle her with the completeness of the records; every trivia that Wakandan intelligence combined with the might of the Black Widow and Tony Stark has been noted. And Hydra, as disgusting an organization that it is, had been diligent with its research reports. 

There is, admittedly, a lot less from the Russians, and nearly nothing from before, but that’s hardly a surprise. most records would have been lost in the change of power in the Eastern blocks. So, at first she doesn’t really see it at all. No puzzle pieces, no missing pieces either. 

If she had been anyone else, Shuri would have let go of it then. If her brother hadn’t slipped up, perhaps she would never have thought to look. But she’s here, so she cannot put it down, takes into account the mysterious fact that her brother would prefer her to stay out of this mystery, while he knows she can solve anything; everything. 

And then one day, as she watches Steve Rogers and Tony Stark interact; as she jumps in to soothe Wanda, who is still not completely at ease. She realises: James Barnes is the normal one. Steve and Tony and Wanda and even that odd bowsman have their own personal quirks, but they are all understandable and logical and manageable. They all shoulder their own burdens. Shuri even has to admit, as foreign as they are to her, she likes these people. 

James Barnes however does not have any oddities; he fits in perfectly, even her own people hardly taking notice of him. Which is a feat, with how little contact with white people they have had in the past. He blends; with one arm or with a metal one; with nearly white skin and too much wild hair, even when he cleans himself up and walks around looking for all the world like he ninteenfourtees youngman he apparently is. It’s her _ first _ clue.

He adapts to her too; she can tell now. When he’s with her he’s reasonable; realistic. But not so much that it sticks out. Just enough. And then, it hits her: it’s too easy. Everything about Bucky Barnes is too easy. Too functional. He’s fucked up, she knows. But the real puzzle is not that there is trauma, or even that he hides it. The real puzzle is how he does it  _ so well _ .

Shuri  _ needs _ to know. She’d have offered him a safe haven without her own need of course; Shuri is a good person, and one with the means to help. But the mystery is alluring, and she wants it; needs it. Mr Barnes notices, and is quick to exploit. Quick to latch on to her and her needs. It’s her  _ second clue _ . 

She gets her third clue when the latest brain scans come back. In a moment of weakness, she shares her findings with Tony Stark. It’s okay, she tells herself. They are on the same side now. The constant bickering between Steve and Tony has pretty much sealed the deal. And Tony is the only person she knows well enough, with enough mental capacity to understand. “How in Basts’ name is this possible?”

Tony does a little sideways swerve on his chair. “The human brain, right? I am  _ seriously _ considering switching to organics. Metal just doesn’t do this.”

“Human brains don’t usually do _ this _ either, Stark.” Shuri reprimands. “Or is that news to you? Explains those stories they used to tell about you. I do hope you are aware that you are not-so-immune to alcohol poisoning? That’s quite a bit of brain damage you must have chalked up by now. Or have you been bathed in a barrel of serum as a child?”

Tony barks a laugh. “Not as far as I know. Though I suppose it’s entirely possible my dad fooled around with my DNA; I wouldn’t put it past him. And let’s be fair, I am kind of too brilliant to be naturally made.”

He’s just messing with her, Shuri knows. James Buchanam Barnes is one of a kind. Not even Steve Rogers, the supposed perfect soldier, would heal his brain his fast. Probably. Shuri tisks at the screen. “Ho, please. Like you can hold a candle to me. And I  _ know _ I was all natural.” 

Tony’s chair starts moving again; just little turns left-right as he holds his shoulders stationary so he can incline his head. “I defer wholeheartedly to the beautiful young lady on this. But only because that’s apparently the gentlemanly thing to do, and if we start another intellectual war in the scientific papers Pepper has warned me she’ll be outing all my aliases.”

Shuri laughs. “That article in ‘ _ The Scientist’  _ was you, right? About the fluency of time-space in the perception of intelligent computing? What a load of crap!”

“And yet no one managed to call me out on it.” Tony grins, wickedly. Challenging.

With a wave of the hand, Shuri relents. “I got a basic piece down but between Wakanda stepping out of the shadows, our joint project with the prosthetic and this brainwork between Wanda and me I don’t think I’ll get around to finishing soon.” 

Tony pauses in his little chair twists. “The arm was mostly you, and I know I won’t be much real help with the triggers. But, I’d love to help out with the political side. Well, offer my help. Or, mostly Pepper’s lawyer squad. So, not really my help. But, trust me, they are a scary bunch of experts. Also brilliant, if mostly in their ruthlessness.” he pauses, looks away. “Oh,  _ look. _ They are  _ like _ me. Only hard-working and pretty poor by comparison; you will probably only be able to tell the difference because they show up to all the meetings.”

“That’s sweet of you to offer.“ Shuri considers. She knows a mega-company like Stark Industries, and let’s not forget Stark’s own weight on the counsels is not something to sniff at. The kind of lobby that can turn the whole government of the USA to their favor. With the political climate changing as it is, Wakanda needs her allies more than ever. “I’ll tell my brother. I’m sure we can help each other.” She smiles again. “You know, I didn’t think I’d ever say that to an egotistical white-boy capitalist, but you’re okay, Stark.”

“Erg. it’s a work in progress.” Tony waves his hand. “But making your acquaintance has been its own reward. I suppose in a way, I should thank Barnes for that too, as he has been instrumental in making that possible.” 

Tony frowns, adding “and that’s just not the turn of phrase I wanted.”

It’s her fourth clue. 


	2. 2: cruising lope

Shuri may be the greatest prodigy in the family since at least three generations, she is well aware that she is less than perfect in  _ other departments _ . Most president in her shortcomings, Shuri felt that shortage of empathy she appeared to suffer from. Interestingly enough, the first time she was called an  _ insensitive bitch _ was on an international conference with her father. 

She had cried; a rare occurrence, even in full swing of adolescence. That realisation drug the barb dig deeper; in a lot of ways, she realised, the boy that had slung these insults at her had not been wrong. But her father had scoffed, and told her such boys were jealous and intimidated by her strength. 

When she confided she feared there was truth in his words regardless, he had shrugged. “Awareness of the sensitivity of others may be a skill you have not acquired yet. It is something that I believe can only come through experience and age and the constant practice of empathy you  _ do  _ have in spades.” then, his cool expression had turned wry. “Another thing that might need age to ripen is the knowledge that some people are  _ not worthy _ of your prudence. Let me help you out here; this particular boy was not.”

Her father had been a wise man. But, sometimes Shuri feared that his love had blinded him to the truth. Because Shuri never stepped around  _ anyone _ . Shuri studied, dissected, and extrapolated. She built theories, she categorized reactions and predicted behavior. But Shuri never, ever spared anyone’s feelings. Not even when her predictions suggested she was about to hurt a person’s sensitivities. 

Interestingly, that incapability of care came from her greatest fear: that she was simply too cold and logical to truly feel, like other people obviously did. Because Shuri’s emotional responses were always logical and weighted. In the spectrum of feelings, she always chose the one that made most sense in a particular situation. This, obviously, set her apart from all others.

She thought her new fugitive friends showed the five most common groups of illogical emotional responses: Hawkeye, who seemed to react to anything he couldn’t handle with violence, covering up his failings with bad jokes and very little true remorse. She was personally still upset about him murdering that Hydra agent; apart from the information they might have gotten from the man, she could hot help but assume the man too had been under duress.

Then there was the great Captain America, who made a decent attempt at being reasonable and logical in his deeds and words. Until one praised him or made one remark that might be taken sexually. Then he’d blush an amusing bright red. It was obvious to Shuri at least that his hundred-years old ideal of logic and reason mostly relied on him not having any emotions. And working very hard on repressing any feelings that might threaten that marble surface he projected. A lie she supposed he wasn’t even aware of.

Next was the Black Widow, that had already left across the border to work on relations. She was the type to already brace for the impact of disappointment at all turns. The kind of aloft, cool demeanor that screamed ‘I know what’s coming and I refuse to get hurt by it.’

Then, Wanda, her new BFF; a nice girl, that had obviously suffered some blows to her ego lately. She was shy and unsure, second guessing her choices and ideas at every turn. Personally she liked that about Wanda. It showed the other woman was aware that she had made some bad decisions in the past, and that she was working on not having it happen to her again. Of course, Shuri didn’t understand why remaking oneself took longer than an evening reminiscing over a cup of tea with a good friend but again, Shuri did realise this was probably her personal fault.

Finally, the true dramaqueen. Tony Stark wasn’t with them, in Wakanda, of course. But Shuri truly wished he would visit soon. His type of shortcoming was rare  —‌probably a good thing, but such fun to watch in action. She was almost sure he had coupled brilliance with an extreme form of ADHD: Stark went from casual cruel and uncaring to benevolent do-gooder and back in two seconds (she had timed him). It was like he had Steve’s ‘I must do good’, with Natashia’s ‘I don’t give a fuck’ attatude mixed. But they didn’t mix at all: like oil and water. The result was volatile and fun. Although probably more destructive than a guy with that much power should be.

Perhaps that was why her and Tony had hit it off so well; playing a game of frenemies that probably didn’t fool anyone. While Shuri often worried she was emotionally stunted, Tony Stark felt too much. The multi millionaire went on emotional benders as much as real ones, filling Shuri with a longing to try and capture that inebriated haze for herself while simultaneously filling her with dread for the consequences. 

Shuri had, years ago, come to the hopeful theory that such imbalances in personality were probably the result of trauma. All the Avengers had after all had their share of bad experiences. Shuri, on the other hand, had lived a perfectly easy life. 

Of course, that theory was no longer valid. The death of her father, that had unbalanced her brother bad enough to have him go on a quest for vengeance had hardly touched Shuri’s equilibrium: she had been sad, of course. Still was. But she never for a moment doubted her father would rest in peace in the spirit world, strong in the knowledge that his country would be safe in the hands of his two children. Not even when she’d assumed her brother dead had she despaired. One could pretend, and say she had put her country first over grieving. But Shuri knew the truth: she cried for one night, made her peace, and moved on without any pain.

So, again, she feared that she was fundamentally broken: an uncaring, psychopathic part her unable to feel as deeply and painfully as others obviously did. Shuri did feel a measure of despair at that: that she would never truly be able to connect with another human being, simply because she could never feel like they did.

But then, along came Sergeant Barnes.

Her initial theory, was that Barnes was emotionally stunted. His reactions to fitting him a new arm were measured enough for him to be like the Black Widow: careful not to get hurt, and unwilling to invest in anything that might be taken away. 

But, that didn’t add up with her  _ other _ observations of him. He smiled when interacting with the other Avengers. Could safor little things like a good cup of coffee or a quiet moment in the palace gardens. He seemed happy; acting with an appropriate amount of annoyance to small setbacks or grievances, but never giving into anger, despair or doubt. 

Her second theory was that he remembered nothing of what had happened. That the brain-damage was bad enough to have cleaned any trauma from his brain. The way his missing brain cells had happily regenerated into the holes he’d had certainly suggested he had the placidity to start over.

That didn’t quite add up either. Damaged tissue might have been replaced by new gray matter, Barnes’s brain had apparently at some point started storing information with a double back-up system. She had found the trigger words mapped in four different areas, and he had had very little remembering facts, because Barnes had happily divulged a lot of information about Hydra bases and operatives, regurgitating information all the way back to the seventies. Useful, pristeen information: lists of names, passwords, Hydra-bases. Kill lists, mission reports, all easily remembered in perfect detail. 

Was he like her? Did he have that hole in his heart that left him untouched by bad things, like her? Barnes appeared pure and untouchable after a century of life throwing itself at him, but was obviously still able to tell good from evil. And though Shuri didn’t wish for half his misery, wasn’t that a blessing? If they were the same, of course. 

She pushed harder, tried harder to get a rise out of him. She felt sure Barnes had to at least fear them digging into his brain at some level. But hard as she tried, this approach yielded little results. So, she observed again, and decided perhaps there was as little self-preservation in him as in Steve Rogers. The former Captain America didn’t have any though for his own well-being either, and the pair seemed pretty close. Also, they were from the same bygone age, from the same background.

So, she stretched her theory a bit further, and figured that perhaps she could get a raise out of Barnes the same way that never failed with Steve.; the total prude that literally turned bead red because her skirt showed off her knees. 

So Shuri started  _ fucking _ with the man: For the brain procedure she ordered him a ridiculous shift remeniscent of Western hospital ware from the eighties. Wakanda obviously had a whole range of better and more dignified surgical gowns. Hell, the last thing one could take away from any African was his fashion sense; that and his dignity. No Wakandan man woman of child would ever be caught with the ass hanging out like that; but Barnes didn’t know that. 

Mildly annoyed was the best she got out of that. Which she considered a little underplayed. But, nothing definite. What happened next, she was not proud of: she pushed harder. During the last check-ups pre-freeze, she overstepped her professional bounds: “So, you don’t mind if I set the catheter, right?”

Shuri didn’t look up from her table; just listened to him shuffle into her sleek design cryo pod. A cold blue capsule, raised at forty-five degrees. Another piece of perfection from her hand: hardly any similarities with the original, Russian cold-war era design: hers looked like a hard plastic Mummy sleeping Bag, with the head cowl slightly raised. Barnes paused, one leg already in the opened case. Looked around at her with a puzzled expression a tad too rehearsed. “You’re.. Freezing me?”

“Yes, and I’ll be overseeing while Wanda does the deep work..” Her smile was cheeky, fishing for more. “I suppose I can find you a male nurse if that makes you feel better?”

Barnes smiled slowly, only slightly left of polite. “Young lady, are you trying to get into my pants? I won’t stop you, you know.”

Shuri laughed; at herself as much as at the comeback. Was she really that desperate for company to go looking for it in a  _ patient? _ But, he did seem like her; untouched by life. She hoped Wanda and her could work quickly on the triggers. She needed to talk to Barnes now; find out so much more. Have an honest heart-to-heart so she could finally understand the nature of the affliction they both appeared to suffer from.

Or course, when he woke nearly a year later, Shuri finally understood that Barnes was actually a liar.

  
  
  
  
  



	3. Note!

this is a little heads up to those reading this that I'll probably be pulling this, and the previous piece, and restructuring everything I have.  
I've taken a lot of time trying to figure what I'm writing and I think I nearly got it. how to structure everything is still hard. apart from what I've posted (with the previous piece I have), I've got a lot of stuff, spread out over a lot of time. I'm not going to 'fill up' everything with junk so don't worry. I just write what I need to write. but that's kind of hard when you're not sure what the point is yet right?

anyway, a beta is still much appreciated. if you feel like it. just hit me up, here or on tumblr https://theash0.tumblr.com/


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